


Playing With Fire

by WordsAblaze



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt Nick Burkhardt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nick Whump, Nickroe - Freeform, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Kissing, ariel eberhart is crazy, hurt nick, nick and monroe are the main pairing, protective Monroe, reference to nick and juliette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-13 00:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAblaze/pseuds/WordsAblaze
Summary: Ariel pulls Nick into a twisted game with plans that won't succeed if Monroe has anything to say about it... Inspired by S1E14, enjoy!





	1. Unwanted Game

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what this is, it literally just kind of happened so I guess this is my first fic for Grimm ^.^
> 
> If you are, for some reason, reading this, I hope you like it !!

Nick had never been a fan of playing with fire. 

But this girl, Ariel, with hair as vibrant as the flames she possessed inside of her, she was literally made of fire and Nick was stuck in her game. 

He'd gone home and he'd almost mistaken her for Juliette and his evening had been ruined. But he hadn't complained, he'd just fought back and tried to protect his girlfriend. 

He'd gone to the cave and ended up killing someone and his morals had been jeopardised. But he hadn't complained, he'd just thanked Monroe and embraced Juliette and gone home as calmly as he could. 

He'd gone to bed and Juliette hadn't said a word and his fatigue was overwhelmed by his anxiety. But he hadn't complained, he'd just tried to breathe as deeply as possible and closed his eyes. 

And then he'd woken up. 

He doesn't remember falling asleep but his arm is numb so he must have been leaning on it, which meant that he'd eventually dozed off. And then been woken up. 

A quick, groggy glance around tells him he's alone in the bed. There's a note on the table from Juliette; she'd left early because she hadn't slept well. 

Maybe her departure had woken him up. 

Nick groans as he sits up, clutching his side. Alarmingly, it hurts to touch.

"Perfect," he mutters to himself, lifting his shirt to find a mean graze and several nicks, otherwise not surprised by the dozen or so bruises scattered over his skin. 

He'd been shirtless a good few times the day before, of course he was going to have bruises. 

He lets himself fall back down onto the mattress but, just as he gets comfortable, there's a rattling downstairs. 

Sighing, he pulls himself together and grabs his gun as soon as he finds his balance. It takes him a hot minute and he makes a mental note to get himself checked over later, just to be on the safe side. 

"Hello? Juliette, is that you?" Nick calls, slowly making his way down the stairs. 

"Do you want me to be?" a familiar voice drawls, and then he's on his back and pain is radiating through his spine. 

Ariel smirks at him, one hand cupping his cheek. "Did you miss me?" 

"Ariel? What…? Didn't you…?" 

She cocks her head, pouting playfully. "Send myself up in deadly flames? No, Grimm, that's not really how I want to go."

Finally, Nick remembers how to move and goes to grab the gun that had fallen from his hand. Unfortunately, Ariel gets there first and before he can blink twice, she's pressing the weapon down onto his chest, making him, ironically, freeze. 

"Don't think you'd want to shoot a gun around me anyway," she reminds him, coughing and dousing him in whatever her breath contains to make her point. 

Nick stills despite the sudden urge to itch his skin, holding his hands up, his fingers splayed to show surrender. "I'm sorry about your father."

"I know," she replies, "you're genuinely moral and all that, I can tell."

"Um, thank you." Nick shifts, wincing. "Can I, uh, get up?" 

Ariel laughs - actually laughs - and shakes her head, lifting the gun off him and pressing it to his head instead. 

Nick clenches his jaw, deciding to let her call the shots. He should be able to reverse the situation but he's injured and she's sat on him so there's no way he can move without being fatally wounded. 

"You know, I really appreciate that you're the knight in shining armour kind of guy, it's kinda hot."

Nick says nothing, confused. Where is she going with this? 

He finds out soon enough, when her lips press against his and the hand that isn't holding a gun to his head fiddles with the top button on his shirt - he's just glad he'd been too tired to take it off before falling asleep last night. 

He pulls away, of course, turning his head to the side and frowning at her. "Ariel, what are you doing?" he asks, slightly breathless. 

She finally undoes the button and smiles slyly, running a hand over his skin. "I just lost my dad again, Grimm. This is how I'm coping."

"Wait, Ariel, I'm-mmmph!" 

She kisses him again, hard, and it tastes like petrol and smoke. It hurts too, but he doesn't want to move as long as there's a gun pressing against his head. 

He's pretty sure his lip is bleeding when she eventually pulls back but he's more focused on the scratchy feeling in his throat. 

"Get off me!" he tries to yell, but she'd stolen his breath so it comes out more like a plea. 

"Stop. Talking," she pants, having completely opened his shirt at this point. 

She looks down and for a second, the pressure of the gun lessens. Nick moves. He shoves the gun sideways, barely registering the bang as she reflectively pulls the trigger, and sits up so that he can move the two of them towards level ground. 

They tumble onto the floor, the gun clattering somewhere beyond their reach, and they end up rolling, wrestling, hitting furniture, battling for the upper hand. 

And then they stop. 

Despite him being a trained detective, she ends up on top of him, one knee pressed against his stomach and the other squeezing one of his wrists, her nails digging painfully into his skin. 

"What are you trying to do?" he rasps, trying to push her knee away. 

She presses down with said knee and he coughs, curling into himself, struggling to get free or even just breathe properly. 

"Little boys dressing up as knights shouldn't play with fire unless they want to get burned."

And then she punches him. And again. And again. And he thinks he punches her but he can't tell because he can't breathe and she might try to kiss him again but he couldn't be sure because he can't breathe and he can't breathe and he can't-

It's like a long blink. 

One second the smell of flames surrounds him and then they're both dripping wet and someone is yelling and… growling? 

And then the nails dig in painfully deep and he smells blood and he flinches but then they're gone and he can finally breathe but it doesn't matter because then he smells smoke once more and he realises his house will never be safe again because she knows where he lives, where he sleeps. 

He groans, forcing himself to sit up, leaning on the wall closest to him, blinking rapidly. 

He thinks he sees a wolf before the world tilts and blurs and his eyes suddenly weigh more than the old weapons in his Aunt Marie's collection. 

And in that moment, when he's in the process of unceremoniously toppling over, he complains. 

Mentally, of course, but he complains nonetheless. 

All he wanted was a comfortable life with the person he loved but no, he ends up being some supernatural horror story, chased by borderline mythical creatures who either want to kiss him or kill him. 

Was it too much to ask for to just get a good night's sleep every once in a while? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've no idea if I'll carry this on... If you read this and would be interested, let me know! If nobody's really bothered, I'll just go where the (textual) winds take me :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a kudos or comment?


	2. Disjointed Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I'd update so soon but I'm feeling a bit off and apparently, it's cathartic to write some good old hurt n comfort. So, if anyone's interested, enjoy!

Nick cries out. 

He's not even sure why at first, but the burning in his side that quickly makes itself known is answer enough. 

It feels like fire and ice had been forced to merge into one and decided to get revenge on his skin in protest. 

He's uneasy, flashes of Ariel's face flickering in his vision, but there's also something comforting, something that tells him he should be safe, so he tries his best to calm down. 

"I know, I know, I'm getting there," someone tells him as he cries out again and Nick dimly knows that he should recognise the voice before the pain increases and he slips back into darkness. 

Next time, he wakes up relatively painlessly. 

"'Roe?" he mumbles, tired and groggy and confused but still able to recognise the smell of forest and metal and spice. 

"Yeah, Nick, you're safe now," Monroe replies quickly. 

Nick groans and peels his eyes open, frowning when his gaze lands on Monroe. "You look tired," he comments without thinking. 

Monroe snorts. "Yeah, well, if a certain Grimm would stop nearly dying every other day…"

Guilt burns through Nick as fiercely as the pain from earlier and he frowns, looking down, knowing there's no way he can justify asking so much of Monroe. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 

"No, Nick-" Monroe shakes his head- "that was meant to be more of a joke."

Nick closes his eyes, knowing that he's the real joke here. He can't protect himself in the slightest and he barely knows anything about anything, maybe he really isn't cut out for all this Grimm business. 

Monroe must catch sight of his expression because he shakes his head again. "Man, you've gotta stop thinking so obviously. Just rest for now, we can have this conversation another time."

As if his body had been waiting for Monroe's command, Nick's eyes droop and he's out of it before he can express his gratitude. 

Shivering wakes Nick up the third time. 

His muscles tighten and his skin tingles as he shivers, curling up into himself. 

It hurts to move, though, and soon enough, he ends up letting out a small moan at the way shivering stretches his wounds. 

His second moan has no time to form because someone is there, gentle hands guiding him into a sitting position, soothing murmurs somehow drawing his pain away.

"Monroe?" Nick asks, pretty sure it's him anyway because nobody else can comfort his nerves so quickly. 

"Yeah, still me. Glad those, uh, Grimm senses are in mint condition." There's a nervous edge to Monroe's voice.

Nick frowns, blinking to focus his vision. "Are you okay?" 

When his gaze finally settles on familiar curls and concerned eyes, Nick notices that Monroe has raised an eyebrow. "Am I okay? You're the one with a giant bruise for an abdomen."

Nick laughs lightly, winces, and smiles gratefully. "What happened?" he asks after a moment. 

“I was just coming over to return your coat, you left it in the kitchen when you got the call from Hank about the homicide suspect, and I suppose it wasn’t the best idea since you’re over here all the time anyway but-”

Confused, Nick holds up a hand. “Wait, slow down. I don’t- I just… How did I get here?” he asks, hating that he seems to have lost the ability to use words. 

“Oh, right, of course, relevant facts only,” Monroe says sheepishly, sending a glance over Nick before carrying on, “I went round to yours and caught the scent of your blood because, man, does it smell awful - sorry, no offence - so I knew something was wrong...”

Nick waits for Monroe to carry on but he seems to be deep in thought, apparently having forgotten that he was narrating something. Nick waits as long as he deems polite before coughing pointedly, jerking Monroe out of his head and back into the present. 

“Oh, sorry, got a little distracted. Anyway, I went inside and you were having some kind of fight with the Daemonfleur and she definitely had the upper hand so I may have, you know, attacked her…” 

He looks away again, but Nick finds himself smiling.

“You protected me?” he asks, only half teasing. He’s actually flattered that Monroe, who he bothers and intrudes on so often, would think him worthy of protecting. 

Monroe looks at him sharply. “Well, I wouldn’t say- I mean, I guess so.” 

“Thank you,” Nick says sincerely. 

There’s a moment of silence between them before Nick finds himself curling over again, feeling as if something sharp had been carelessly stabbed into his side. 

“Nick? Nick! What is it?” 

Oxygen can’t get to his lungs fast enough as Nick throws an arm out, his fingers weakly clutching Monroe’s arm as the world seems to blur around him, even Monroe’s voice dissolving into the mass of colours around him.

“-ake up already, come on!”

Nick coughs, spluttering, turning onto his side and breathing heavily as he retches. 

Someone sighs in relief and then there’s a cool hand pushing Nick’s hair back as his heart calms down enough for him to hear more than his own pulse. 

“Hey, take it easy, slow and steady, as you humans say.” There’s a pause, and then, “Although I suppose you’re not technically human, huh?” 

Nick just groans and leans into the comfort of the cool touch, letting his eyes fall shut again. 

“I’m sorry,” Nick mumbles as he realises he must have passed out again.

This time, he’s alert enough to realise he’s on Monroe’s couch, with a blanket loosely draped over him and Monroe kneeling on the floor in front of him.

“What, it took almost dying for you to realise you ought to pay rent for use of my couch?” 

A smile breaks out on Nick’s face as he opens one eye, meeting Monroe’s exasperated but relieved gaze. 

“I owe you, again,” Nick admits, deciding it’s safe to open the other eye.

Monroe shakes his head almost fondly, placing the back of his hand on Nick’s forehead, presumably to check his temperature. Somewhat embarrassingly, Nick finds himself sighing at the touch, automatically pressing his head to Monroe’s hand.

Monroe pauses for a second before once more pushing Nick’s hair back, as one would do to a small child. “You’re still hot,” he comments.

Nick frowns, wondering if he'd imagined that. 

“I wonder if it’s because the Daemonfluer kissed you…?” Monroe ponders aloud and Nick feels his face flush; of course Monroe was only talking about his temperature. 

Ariel must have really messed with his mind for him to think anything else. She’d gotten under his skin and Nick was clearly still playing her game, whatever the game was meant to be. 

“Nick, you’re not gonna pass out on me again, are you?”

“Huh, what?” Nick asks, blinking, bringing himself back to the present. For a detective, he thinks, he really needs to pay more attention to his surroundings. 

Monroe tilts his head, his eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay? Do you feel, uh, burning or something anywhere? I don’t think I know enough about Daemonfluer to help here, to be honest…” 

Nick shakes his head automatically. “No, no, you’re amazing. Uh, I mean, thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. Really. Thanks, Monroe.”

Finally, Monroe smiles. 

And for one reason or another, Nick is happy to see him smile. 

He doesn’t want to ruin that smile so he neglects to inform Monroe of the slightly vicious burning sensation that seems to be painfully blooming in his blood. Instead, he just smirks and swings his legs around so he can sit up.

“So, does my rent cover the cost of a meal?”

Monroe looks surprised for only a moment before he nods, standing up himself. “Sure, if you want to be the guinea pig to my new recipes.” 

“It would be my honour,” Nick jokes, but he’s not really joking.

The only problem is, his knees buckle as soon as he stands up and he ends up falling onto Monroe, who steadies him with a soft, “Woah!”

“Sorry,” Nick breathes, sighing. 

“No problem, man, just… there you go,” Monroe says gently, letting Nick use him to right himself. 

Nick tries to ignore the way his whole body hurts, focusing on the vague scent of mint and paint radiating from Monroe, but he ends up failing when what feels like a wave of heat washes over him.

It feels like his bones are melting and he can’t help the noise of pain that emits from his mouth as he tightens his grip on Monroe. 

“I think… need to… sit,” Nick mumbles breathlessly before he loses control of his limbs and all but collapses.

He doesn’t hit the floor because Monroe’s there to steady him and he thinks he manages to apologise for being a nuisance before he loses awareness of everything around him.

Apparently, just having a nice meal with Monroe had been too much to ask for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you got to the end, I hope you enjoyed! I really like this show but I wish there was more of Nickroe... 
> 
> Sorry for typos and such, let me know if you see any that need fixing, I'm too tired to proof-read properly...
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a kudos or comment?


	3. Haunting Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some more comfort in this one !! almost 100 people clicked on this, that's pretty awesome, thanks !! anyway, enjoy ...

Monroe looks disappointed. 

He’s looking down at Nick both literally and otherwise, an odd kind of irritation in his expression that’s rarely, if ever, visible. 

Nick frowns and blinks, seriously confused. 

For some reason, he’s staring up at Monroe but said Blutbad is shaking his head, disgust clear in his eyes. It's completely unlike the warm patience he usually shows and frankly, it's pretty scary. 

Monroe isn't often disappointed in him, and never to the point of grimacing directly at him, so, naturally, fear flashes through Nick; what had he done wrong now? 

"Monroe?" Nick's voice sounds wrong, even to his own ears, so he tries again. "Monroe? Monroe! 'Roe?" 

"It's Ariel, actually," a voice drawls next to his ear, making him flinch backwards and groan when his head hits something hard. 

"What? No, you… Monroe-" Nick stumbles over his words, struggling to move, to get away from her, to get back to Monroe. 

Ariel laughs and holds his wrists down above his head, her face so close to his that he can feel her poisonous breath on his lips. 

"Please," Nick hears himself mumble, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"Try harder, Knight," Ariel taunts, running a hand through his hair. 

Wait, wasn't she holding his wrists down? Nick frowns, trying to move but finding that he still can't, he can't get her away from him. 

"Monroe!" Nick yells, wondering where he'd suddenly gone. He hadn't just left him, had he? No, surely he wouldn't just leave him… 

Ariel giggles at his desperation and leans down as if to kiss him but Nick shakes his head furiously, feeling the rush of fear in his blood. 

"I can't-" 

She cuts him off by sharply pulling on his hair and he winces, a small groan escaping him as he struggles. It's in vain, she just smiles and runs a sharp nail down the side of his face. 

"Oh, you're so fun!" she tells him cheerfully, her nail pressing down on his lip. 

"Look at me!" 

Nick freezes; that didn't sound like her at all. In fact, it sounded rather like… "Monroe?" 

But he opens his eyes and Ariel is all but hissing at him, her hair tickling his neck as she leans down again, her nails now drawing blood from his arms as she tightens her hold on him. 

"Let go!" Nick shouts, twisting in her grasp, but he ends up coughing, his eyes watering as she douses him with her flammable breath.

"No, no…" Nick rasps, gasping, unable to focus on her anymore. 

She's shouting something but he can't hear her, and then he's abruptly swamped by the scent of oil and ginger.

"Monroe?" he calls again, confused and breathless and desperate. 

"-ick! Nick! It's me, it's Monroe, Nick!" 

Nick groans, his head pounding and his skin burning and his heart racing. 

"There you go! Come back to me… uh, and my poor couch, we're still waiting on that rent…"

"'Roe?" Nick asks as Ariel fades and slightly cracked paint comes into view. 

"It's 'Monroe', Nick, and you know it."

Nick finds himself smiling as he breathes deeply, his throat no longer itching and his heart gradually slowing down. 

"What-" he clears his throat, blinking- "happened?" 

As his eyes open properly, he sees Monroe hovering above him with a relieved smile on his face. "You were totally stupid."

What? 

Nick must have said that out loud without realising it because Monroe shakes his head disapprovingly. "Why didn't you tell me you felt like someone had filled your bones with lava?"

That's a very accurate description of what he'd felt like and Nick has the urge to say so, in order to applaud Monroe of phrasing it so well, but he just bites his lip and shrugs sheepishly. 

"Well, next time, give a guy some warning before collapsing on him, huh?" 

He sounds something like annoyed and Nick glances up sharply, worried that he hadn't imagined that disgusted look aimed at him. 

But no, Monroe seems to be the regular kind of irritated that comes from being unpleasantly surprised rather than the vicious kind Nick had seen just moments ago. Speaking of… 

"Was I… uh, I saw Ariel…?" 

Monroe raises an eyebrow. "I'd say it was a dream but your expression tells me it was more of a nightmare."

Nick sighs, and a shiver runs through him at the ghost of her nails on his skin. 

He lets himself feel the fabric of the couch beneath him instead, and the slight breeze brushing over him. Ariel isn't anywhere near him and that's the most important thing. 

“Hey, just a question… did you by any chance see me as well?”

He hadn’t realised they’d slipped shut but Nick’s eyes shoot open as he glances over to Monroe sharply, wondering how much of what he’d said in his dream - nightmare - had translated to the real world as well. 

“I, uh… You were…” Nick sighs, then decides to just tell the truth. “Yeah. You were- I don’t know, you looked like you hated the very sight of me or something and I guess I was just…”

…I was just shocked you'd leave me alone like that, Nick finishes in his head, not wanting to say it aloud because of how childish it sounds. 

Monroe smiles reassuringly. “I get it. I reckon I’d be pretty freaked if I suddenly had a vision of you hating me too. Well, I guess I did hate you at one point but that’s before… you know, you turned out to be an atypical Grimm. But anyway, have no fear, I quite like the sight of you.” 

Nick smiles softly. “You do?” 

“Believe it or not and at the risk of horrifying my ancestors, yeah. I do.” 

And that's enough to calm Nick's nerves and let him think clearly. Which is when he realises Monroe is in pyjamas and it's pitch black outside. 

He winces. "I'm sorry, I woke you up and… wait, are those trains?" 

Monroe looks moderately offended. "Alright, I don't mind having to wake you up from a nightmare - it's not your fault I can smell your fear so strongly - but under no circumstances are you allowed to insult my pyjamas."

Nick holds his hands up, a small smile on his face. "Sorry. But for the record, I wasn't insulting them, I was just curious."

After a moment, Monroe's expression softens. "But seriously, Nick, do you want some tea or something to help you sleep?" 

Sighing, Nick shakes his head and pushes himself into a sitting position. "It's okay, I'm not sure even your herbs can help me sleep."

"Hey, my herbs are the reason your bones don't feel like they're made of lava."

Nick gives him a puzzled look. "That's twice now you've mentioned lava. What am I missing?" 

Monroe stands up from where he was kneeling in front of Nick and sinks into the couch beside him. "Your Daemonfluer, Ariel? Yeah, well, turns out inhaling her breath is kind of toxic for literally every other species."

His eyes widening, Nick turns so he's facing Monroe. "Monroe, she- she kissed me. I mean, I'm pretty sure I must have inhaled loads of the stuff she was coughing all over me!"

Monroe places a hand on his arm, slicing through Nick's panic. "It's okay, I gave you one of my best herbal remedies. You should be fine."

"Should?" Nick echoes, raising an eyebrow. 

"Well, it was aimed at Blutbad incidents but I'm almost certain it'll work on you too," Monroe explains. 

Nick groans and lets himself slump onto the couch, not even caring that his head ends up resting on Monroe's shoulder. 

"You're welcome, by the way," Monroe says pointedly and Nick snorts. 

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Monroe. I-" 

"Owe me one?" Monroe offers, and Nick can imagine the amused look on his face. 

He just nods in reply, the comforting scent of coriander and something metallic coming from Monroe soothing the confused chaos in his head. He lets his eyes shut and sighs, leaning into Monroe's arm without realising. 

A small voice inside of Nick is telling him to maintain personal space but Monroe isn't complaining so he just ignores that part of his logic and settles for getting comfortable. 

He ends up pleasantly surprised as Monroe doesn't try to lie him down but just shifts and puts an arm around his shoulders. 

"Thank you," Nick mumbles sleepily, not even having the energy to open his eyes again. 

"Goodnight, Nick," Monroe whispers back as he drapes a blanket over them and the world goes dark, but in a good way this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly wrote this for that vicarious self-care, you know? But if you read it, I hope you liked it too x
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a kudos or comment?


End file.
